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Modern Management 13th Edition Certo Test Bank

Modern Management, 13e (Certo/Certo)

Chapter 2 Managing

1) Henri Fayol was a major contributor to the field of classical management theory.
Answer: TRUE
Page Ref: 27
Learning Outcome: Identify and discuss the components of the human resource management
process
Objective: 1, 2
Difficulty: Easy
Classification: Conceptual

2) Frederick W. Taylor is commonly called the "father of scientific management."

Answer: TRUE
Page Ref: 27
Learning Outcome: Identify and discuss the components of the human resource management
process
Objective: 2
Difficulty: Easy
Classification: Conceptual

3) The primary investigative tool in F.W. Taylor's research was motion study.
Answer: FALSE
Page Ref: 28
Learning Outcome: Identify and discuss the components of the human resource management
process
Objective: 2
Difficulty: Easy
Classification: Conceptual

4) Motion study consists of reducing each job to the most basic movements possible.
Answer: TRUE
Page Ref: 29
Learning Outcome: Identify and discuss the components of the human resource management
process
Objective: 2
Difficulty: Easy
Classification: Conceptual

1
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5) Taylor pioneered a system in which workers could earn a bonus in addition to the piece rate if
they exceeded their daily production quota.
Answer: FALSE
Page Ref: 29
Learning Outcome: Identify and discuss the components of the human resource management
process
Objective: 2
Difficulty: Easy
Classification: Conceptual

6) Henri Fayol is regarded as the pioneer of administrative theory.

Answer: TRUE
Page Ref: 31
Learning Outcome: Identify and discuss the components of the human resource management
process
Objective: 2
Difficulty: Easy
Classification: Conceptual

7) Henri Fayol was more aware of the human side of production. According to him, the interests
of one person should take priority over the interests of the organization as a whole.
Answer: FALSE
Page Ref: 31
Learning Outcome: Identify and discuss the components of the human resource management
process
Objective: 2
Difficulty: Easy
Classification: Conceptual

8) Fayol defined centralization as raising the importance of the subordinate role.

Answer: FALSE
Page Ref: 31
Learning Outcome: Identify and discuss the components of the human resource management
process
Objective: 2
Difficulty: Easy
Classification: Conceptual

9) According to Fayol, employee retention should not be given high priority as recruitment and
selection costs of hiring new workers is low.
Answer: FALSE
Page Ref: 31
Learning Outcome: Identify and discuss the components of the human resource management
process
Objective: 2
Difficulty: Easy
Classification: Conceptual
2
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10) A drawback of the classical approach is that it does not adequately emphasize human
variables.
Answer: TRUE
Page Ref: 32
Learning Outcome: Identify and discuss the components of the human resource management
process
Objective: 1
Difficulty: Easy
Classification: Conceptual

11) The behavioral approach to management emphasizes increasing production through an

understanding of people.
Answer: TRUE
Page Ref: 32
Learning Outcome: Identify and discuss the components of the human resource management
process
Objective: 3
Difficulty: Easy
Classification: Conceptual

12) The Hawthorne studies concluded that lighting and temperature changes within organizations
could significantly influence production.
Answer: FALSE
Page Ref: 2-16
Learning Outcome: Identify and discuss the components of the human resource management
process
Objective: 4
Difficulty: Easy
Classification: Conceptual

13) One conclusion of the Hawthorne studies was that social groups in organizations could
effectively exert pressure to influence individuals to disregard monetary incentives.
Answer: TRUE
Page Ref: 32
Learning Outcome: Identify and discuss the components of the human resource management
process
Objective: 4
Difficulty: Easy
Classification: Conceptual

3
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 CHAPTER XXIV.

A military execution must be, under all circumstances and to all

persons, an awful and striking exhibition; but seen for the first
time, it makes on the young mind a peculiarly deep and painful
impression. An European soldier of one of the regiments at the
station had, in a fit of passion and disappointment, attempted the
life of his officer, and, agreeably to the necessarily stern provisions
of military law, was sentenced to be shot. I witnessed the
execution;[53] a solemn scene it was, and one which will never be
effaced from my memory.
The troops of various arms, European and native, were drawn
up when I reached the parade, and formed in three sides of an
immense square, facing inwards. The arms were “ordered,” and a
portentous silence prevailed, broken only occasionally by the
clank of a mounted officer’s sword, and the tramp of his horses
hoofs as he rode slowly down the ranks. The morning mists were
beginning to disperse, and the bright sun was darting his long and
almost level rays across the parade ground, and gleaming brightly
on a forest of steel and dazzling accoutrements—the last sunrise
the unhappy criminal was ever destined to behold.
The roll of the dram now announced his arrival, and soon the
procession, in which he occupied a conspicuous position, rounded
the flank of one of the sides of the square.
First marched, at a slow pace, a party bearing the coffin of the
condemned, followed by the execution-party; then the band,
playing the Dead March in Saul: it was a frightful scene, and sent
a damp to my heart—what must have been its effects on the
unhappy man himself?
Last in the melancholy procession came a litter (doolie), borne
on the shoulders of men; and in it, with a white cap on his head,
and a face calm and resigned, but deadly pale, sat the unfortunate
soldier, for whom, I confess, I felt most deeply. By his side,
arrayed in full canonicals, walked the chaplain, his book open in
his hand, reading those prayers and promises—speaking of pardon
and hope—which are calculated to cheer the parting hour, and to
soften the bitterness of death.
The procession having passed slowly along the front of each
regiment, which, from the great extent of the square, occupied a
considerable time, now drew off to the centre of what, if complete,
would have constituted the fourth side of the parallelogram: there
it halted.
The coffin-bearers placed their burden on the ground and
retired; the execution-party drew up at some distance from it. The
prisoner left his doolie, and, accompanied by the clergyman,
walked slowly and with a firm step towards the coffin; on this they
both knelt, with their faces towards the troops, and prayed with
uplifted hands.
Profound was the silence. A soul was preparing for eternity!
Being a spectator at large, I selected my position, and being close
to the spot, saw all distinctly.
After some time had been occupied in prayer, the chaplain
retired, when the judge advocate, on horseback, came forward,
and, drawing forth the warrant for the prisoner’s execution, read it
with a firm and audible voice; at the conclusion, the chaplain once
more advanced, and, kneeling on the coffin, again, with uplifted
hands, and deep and impressive fervour, imparted the last
spiritual consolations to the condemned.
What feelings must have torn the bosom of that unhappy being
at that moment! Set up as a spectacle before thousands—an
ignominious death before him—and perhaps the thoughts of those
he loved, of kindred and of home, never more to be seen, adding
another drop to his cup of bitterness! But yet he quailed not—no
muscle trembled—and a stern determination to die like a man was
stamped upon his care-worn and marbly countenance.
The tragedy was now drawing to a close. The chaplain, with
apparent reluctance, rose and retired, and at the same moment
the sergeant of the execution-party advanced and bound a
handkerchief over the prisoner’s eyes, also pinioning his arms.
Still not a muscle moved; there were no signs of weakness, though
the situation might well have excused them, and the chest was
thrown out and squared to receive the leaden messengers of death.
 The “make ready!” and the crack of the muskets as they were
brought to the “recover,” were startling notes of preparation, and
fell with sickening effect on my ear. I could scarcely believe it
possible I was looking on a scene of reality—a fellow-creature
about to be shot down, however deservedly, in cold blood, like a
very dog.
“Present!”—“fire!” and all was over. A mass of halls, close
together, pierced his heart—over he went like a puppet—fell on his
back, and never moved a limb. Life seemed borne away on the
balls that went through him, and to have vanished with the speed
of an electric spark.
There he lay, like fallen Hassan, “his back to earth, his face to
heaven,” his mouth open, as if to put forth a cry which had died
unborn with the passing pang; one blood-red spot on his cheek,
where a bullet had entered, lending its frightful contrast to the
marbly hue of his features; the heel of one foot rested on the
coffin, the other on the ground; his hands open and on their backs.
A short pause now ensued, which was soon followed by a stir of
mounted officers galloping to and fro, and the loud command to
“wheel back into open column,” and “march!”
In this order the whole force advanced, the bands of the several
regiments playing in succession, as they marched past the corpse,
the deep and solemn strains of the Adeste Fideles, or Portuguese
Hymn, a dirge-like air, admirably adapted for such occasions, and
which breathes the very soul of melancholy.
As the flanks of each company passed, almost touching the dead
man, it was curious to observe the various expressions in the
countenances of the soldiers, European and sepoy, as they stole
their almost scared and sidelong glances at it.
The non-military reader will be a little surprised, as I am sure I
was, when I tell him that each regiment, after having passed the
body a few hundred yards, changed the slow to quick march, and
diverged to their several lines, playing “The girl I left behind me,”
or some similar lively air, with a view, I presume, to dissipate the
recent impression.
The wisdom of such a proceeding is by no means self-evident; it
seems indecent, to say the least of it: to be consistent, we should
always ring a merry peal after a funeral, or a gallopade home from
church.
 Bidding adieu to my friend the major, and duly equipped for the
march, I left Cawnpore for Futtyghur, and the following was the
composition of my rather patriarchal turn-out—hating the red
coats and muskets of my escort: a naick and six sepoys of
Nizamut, or militia; we might have passed pretty well for the
section of a nomade tribe on the move in search of clearer streams
and greener pastures.
A two-bullock hackery or country cart, a very primitive
lumbering locomotive, whose wheels, utter strangers to grease,
emitted the most excruciating music, conveyed my tent, trunks,
and hen-coops, with the dobie’s lady and family perched a-top of
all.
Then there was a bangy-burdah, with two green petaras,
containing my breakfast and dinner apparatus, whilst Ramdial,
my sirdar, trudged on, bearing the bundle containing my change
of linen, and dragging my milch-goat (for Nanny did not approve
of marching) after him, nolens volens.
Nunco led my dogs in a leash; to wit, Teazer, and a nondescript
substitute for the bull, with a few evanescent shades of the
greyhound, which I had purchased at Cawnpore. I named this
animal, rather ironically, “Fly,” which Nunco manufactured into
“Pillai.”
Fyz Buccas, kidmutgar, trudged along, driving before him a
knock-kneed shambling tatoo, which I verily thought he would
have made a spread eagle of, laden with his wife, two children, and
sundry bags, pots, pans, &c. Whether Mrs. Fyz Buccas was a
beauty or not I cannot positively say, though, if I might judge from
the sample of one coal-black eye, of which, through the folds of
her hood I occasionally had a glimpse, I should decidedly say she
was.
I generally rode ahead of the procession, armed cap-à-pie, and
shone the very beau idéal of griffinish chivalry. My syce always
carried my gun, to be ready for a shot at a passing wolf or jackal,
and with one or two other servants, viz., a classee, or tent-pitcher,
bhistee, &c., with my guard, we constituted a rather numerous
party.
In the above order I left Cawnpore, for a small village on the
road to Furruckabad, where, in an extensive mango grove, I for
the first time in my life slept under canvas.
 It is the almost invariable custom in India to march in the early
part of the morning, so as to reach the halting-ground before the
sun has attained much power; but I was either ignorant, of the
practice, or thought it would be preferable to reverse the system;
certain it is, that for some time I always marched in the evenings,
arriving at my ground sometimes after dark; by that means I was
enabled to rise at my own hour comfortably the next morning, and
had the whole day till about sunset for my amusement.
About that time I would seat myself on a chair under a tree, with
my kulian in my hand, and superintend the striking and loading
my tent, &c. About half an hour after they were fairly off, I would
rise like a giant refreshed, mount my steed, whilst my syce
obsequiously held my stirrup, and, fairly seated, would follow the
baggage.
I love to recall in imagination those days, the opening ones of
my independent existence. How vividly can I recall the scene
which this march so often presented! the waning sunlight of the
cold winter evenings, a few bright streaks just tinging the horizon,
my hackery slowly wending its way over the plain, and my
scattered servants crawling behind it, in a cloud of dust; the
mango groves—villages—mud huts, and all the accompaniments of
a country life in Upper India!
I must not here omit to mention that, prior to my leaving
Cawnpore, I received a letter from my friend and patron Captain
Marpeet, with whom I occasionally corresponded; it was couched
in his usual frank and half-bantering style, and informed me that
his regiment was on the eve of marching to Delhi, and that he
anticipated great pleasure in meeting me there. Thus it concluded:
—
“Recollect, my dear boy, I shall have a room at your service, and
that you put up with me on your arrival; you are not fit to take care
of yourself yet, and require a little more of my drilling and
paternal care. Give me a few lines from Futtyghur, and mention
when I may expect you. A friend of mine, Judge Sympkin, is now
out in the district through which you will pass, on some Mofussil
business. I enclose you a few lines of introduction, and have
written to tell him he may expect you. He is a princely fellow, a
first-rate sportsman, and lives like a fighting-cock, as a Bengal
civilian should do. Hoping soon to shake you by the hand,

“I am, worthy Griff,

 “Yours, &c.,
“J. M .”

A few days brought me to Futtyghur, of which I have nothing

particular to record, excepting that the adjoining town of
Furruckabad is celebrated for the manufacture of tent cloth and
camp equipage, and as the scene of the defeat of Holkar’s cavalry
by our dragoons in Lord Lake’s war.
By the way, an officer who was in that action told the relator,
that the Brummagem swords of the troopers would make little or
no impression on the quilted jackets and vests of the Mahrattas,
and that he saw many of them dismount and take the well-
tempered blades of the natives they had pistoled, and use them
instead of their own. The keen razor-like swords of the East give
those who wield them a fearful advantage over men armed with
our mealy affairs. The former will split a man down from the “nave
to the chine,” or slice off his head with infinite ease (sauf karna,
“to shave him clean,” is the Indian phrase), whilst ours require
immense physical force to produce such a result.
The author once met some troopers of the 4th Regiment of
Native Cavalry, some squadrons of which were dismissed for
turning tail when ordered to charge the ex-rajah of Kotah’s body-
guard, and asked them how they came to disgrace themselves. The
answer of one of them was,—
“Why, what chance, sir, have we with men in chain armour, and
wielding swords of such a temper that they will cut down horse
and man at a single blow?”
I mention this as hearing on recent acts and discussions, not in
justification of the men, but as affording a probable clue to the
backwardness of our cavalry on some occasions. I think we are
prone to rely too much on the power of disciplined troops acting
en masse, to the neglect of those matters calculated to increase
individual prowess. Good arms are a first-rate consideration, not
only for the superior execution they do, but on account of the
confidence with which they inspire the soldier.
At Futtyghur my tent was besieged by the venders of cloth, &c.,
and one man brought a number of tulwars (swords) made at
Rampore, in Rohilcund, a place celebrated for them, for sale. After
some higgling, I purchased one, a keen and well-poised blade, for
the small sum of Rs. 4. I longed to try it upon some neck or other,
and, as luck would have it, soon had the desired opportunity, on a
felonious pariar dog, which had made free with a portion of my
dinner.
I had advanced some four or five marches beyond Furruckabad,
each day diversified by some novelty in the scenery—some fresh
object, in the shape of travellers, pilgrims, buildings, and the like—
but still beginning to feel the want of a companion whose language
was the same as my own, when one morning, as I was strolling,
with my pellet-bow in my hand (for I had resumed it, in spite of
the crack on the thumb), I observed at a distance a horseman
slowly approaching.
As he came nearer, I observed he was mounted on a tall
Rosinante-looking steed, with a flowing tail and mane; his head-
stall was of a sort of red bell-rope-looking cord; a bunch of red
cloth, something like a handkerchief, dangled under his horse’s
chin, from whence a standing martingale passed between his legs.
Amulets and chains were round his animal’s neck, and the saddle
(or cushion, rather) was covered with a square broad cloth of red
and yellow chequers.
The cavalier himself, a dark-bearded Mahomedan, was a fine
specimen of the Hindoostanee irregular horseman. His chupkun,
or vest, of yellow broad cloth, reached to his knee, and his legs
were encased in long wrinkled boots, something like Jack
Sheppard’s, and which would not have been the worse for a touch
of Day and Martin.
On his head he wore a cylindrical Cossack-looking cap of black
felt or lambskin. A long matchlock was poised on his shoulder; a
tulwar, or scimitar, was stuck in his cummerbund or girdle, and a
circular black shield, of buffalo’s hide, swung on his shoulders.
Altogether, though I was brought up in the orthodox belief that
one Englishman is equal to three Frenchmen, and of course, to an
indefinite number of blacks, I cannot say I should have liked to
encounter him upon my tatoo. However, his was a mission of
peace, as I soon discovered.
On seeing me, he dug his heels into his horse’s flanks, and was
soon beside me. Throwing himself off, he saluted me with an off-
handed salaam, in which hauteur and civility were oddly blended,
and then, taking off his cap, he extracted therefrom a letter,
somewhat pinguinized and sudorificated, which he respectfully
placed in my hands. It was addressed to “Ensign Francis Gernon,
on his march to Delhi,” and ran thus:—
 “M S ,

“Our mutual friend Marpeet has apprized me of your approach; I write, therefore, to
say that, as a friend of his, it will give me great pleasure if you can spare me a day or two,
if not pressed to join. Your Colonel Bobbery I know well, and will undertake to mollify
him if necessary. The sowar, the bearer of this, will conduct you at once to my
encampment, and you can instruct your people to follow in the morning. I have a spare
tent and cot at your service.

“Hoping soon to see you,

“I am yours truly,
“A S .”

“That will do,” I inwardly ejaculated, as, after examining the seal
and superscription, I conveyed the letter to my pocket. I instantly
ordered my pony, and girding on my spit, wherewith to destroy
any chance giants or dragons I might encounter on the way, I gave
the signal, and the sowar and I were soon in a long canter for the
judge’s tents.
After a ride of about eight miles, the turn of the road exhibited
to my view the judge’s encampment, in which were tents and
people enough for nearly a regiment of five hundred men.
Under a spreading banyan-tree were a couple of elephants,
eating branches of trees for their tea, as we do water-cresses, and
sundry camels bubbling[54] and roaring, and uprearing their lofty
necks by the well-side, where, from the force of association, I
almost looked for Jacob and the fair Rebecca, as represented in
those Scripture prints which in infancy we love to dwell upon, and
whence probably originates that exquisite charm, that, through
our future life, is ever interwoven with Eastern scenes and
customs.
Under a couple of tamarind trees, four or five beautiful horses
were picketed; amongst them a milk-white Arab, with a flowing
tail. This was the judge’s favourite steed. “Pretty well all this,”
thought I, “for one man, and he, too, perhaps, the son of some
small gentleman.”
My arrival caused a considerable stir at the large tent. Two or
three chupprassies, or silver-badge men, darted in to announce
me; the hearer caught up the huge red umbrella or chattah, to be
prepared for the great man’s exit, and to guard his honoured
cranium from the rays of the now declining sun. One or two others
held aside the purdahs, or chicks, and Mr. Sympkin, a well-
compacted, hearty, jolly, but withal gentlemanly man, of forty-five
or fifty, or thereabouts, stood forth to view; he was followed by a
fat squabby man, of the colour of yellow soap or saffron, who,
though attired in something like the European garb, did not,
nevertheless, in other respects, seem to belong to our quarter of
the globe.
The judge shook me heartily by the hand, and was at once so
smiling and cordial, that I began to fancy I must certainly have
known him somewhere before, and that this could never be the
first of our acquaintance. It was true downright goodness of heart,
bursting through the cobwebs of ceremony, and going slap-bang
to its purpose.
“Well, Mr. Gernon, I’m happy to see you here sound and safe. I
hope my sowar piloted you well; how far off have you left your
tents?”
Having replied to these queries, he again resumed.
“When did you hear last from our friend Marpeet? not since I
did, I dare say. Come, give your pony to that man, and he’ll take
care of him for you.”
I resigned my tatoo, who was led off.
The judge’s servants smiled, and exchanged significant glances,
as my little jaded rat, with accoutrements calculated for a horse of
sixteen hands high, was marched away. I confess, for the first
time, I felt perfectly ashamed of him.
“Come in,” said the judge, “we will dine somewhat earlier on
your account; but, in the meantime, as you must be fatigued, a
glass of wine will refresh you. Qui hye? sherry-shrob lou. By-the-
bye,” said he, recollecting himself, as we turned to enter the tent,
“I had nearly forgotten to introduce you to a fellow-traveller.
Ensign Gernon, the Rev. Mr. Arratoon Bagram Sarkies; Mr.
Sarkies, Mr. Gernon.”
The little fat man smiled benignantly, as with a look betokening
that my youth and deportment had made a pleasing impression
upon him, he, in a manner half-Asiatic, tendered me his hand, as
if he felt himself bound in duty to back the judge’s cordiality.
I was sorely puzzled to divine who this amiable little personage
could be, and to what portion of the church universal his
reverence belonged. Mr. Sympkin seemed, I thought, to enjoy my
gaping looks of astonishment, but took an opportunity of
informing me, very shortly afterwards, that Mr. Sarkies was an
Armenian missionary, proceeding to Guzerat with a camel load of
tracts, in divers Eastern languages, for the purpose of converting
the natives.
At the same time that he gave me this information, he proposed,
if agreeable to me, that we should keep each other company for
the few marches during which our route would lie together. To this
proposal I joyfully assented, for though the good missionary was
not exactly the sort of companion I should have selected, had a
choice been given me, nevertheless, an associate of any kind who
could speak my own language was, under present circumstances, a
great acquisition.
Dinner soon made its appearance in the tent, which was fitted
up with carpets, glass shades, attached by clasps to the poles, and,
in short, everything that could render it comfortable and
luxurious, and make us forget that we were in the wilds of
Hindostan.
The viands, which in excellence could not be surpassed by
anything procurable, of their several kinds, at the most
fashionable hotel or club-house at the west end of the town, were
served in burnished silver. The wines and ales, of the most
delicious kinds, were cooled à merveille, and we were waited upon
by fine, proud-looking domestics, in rich liveries, who seemed
fully sensible of the lustre they borrowed from their master’s
importance; in short, I found myself all at once revelling in luxury,
and was made to feel, though in the pleasantest possible way, the
vastness of the gap which separates a griffin going to join from the
judge of a zillah court.
Mr. Sarkies, too, though his occupation referred more
immediately to the other world, seemed, like myself, by no means
insensible to the comforts of this mundane state of existence,
paying very marked attention to the mock-turtle, the roast saddle
of mutton, maccaroni, and other “tiny kickshaws” that followed in
abundance.
In spite, however, of this little trait of the “old man Adam,” the
missionary appeared a most kind-hearted and benevolent
creature; there was a childlike simplicity about him, evincing a
total absence of all guile, which at once inspired a feeling of
affection and regard, adding a proof, were it wanting, of the power
of truthfulness and virtue, in whatever form it may appear. It was
obvious, at a glance, that the Padre’s heart was overflowing with
benevolence and love of his kind, and that no one harsh or
unamiable feeling harboured there.
 The judge, though evidently of a jovial and bantering turn, and
not at all likely to turn missionary himself, seemed clearly to
entertain a mingled feeling of respect and esteem for his single-
hearted, but somewhat eccentric guest, who, I found, owed his
introduction to him to a somewhat similar chance to that to which
I was indebted for mine—a feeling that, in a great degree,
restrained the inclination which, in a good-natured way, would
every now and then peep out, to crack a joke at his expense.
After a very pleasant evening, I retired to a comfortable cot,
which my host ordered to be prepared for me; and next morning
Mr. Sympkin, who was engaged on some special business in the
district, left us after breakfast to attend to his duties and proceed
to his cuchery tent, around which were assembled horses and
ponies gaily caparisoned, and a concourse of native zumeendars,
with their attendants, hosts of villagers, witnesses, and the various
native functionaries in the judge’s suite, who in India bear the
collective appellation of the “omlah.”
At tiffin he joined us, as full of spirits as a boy just let out of
school, rubbing his hands in a gleeful way, and asked me if I was
disposed for a day’s shooting, for if so, he should be happy to show
me some excellent sport, the neighbourhood abounding in game. I
need hardly say that I was not backward in accepting his offer.
The day following was a most propitious one for sport, the air
clear and bracing, and the sun, as is the case in this latitude and
season, possessed of little power. Breakfast over, the judge
ordered his gun to be laid on the table, and at the same time asked
me how I was provided in that way. I told him I was possessed of a
gun, but I dared say he would not deem it a first-rate piece of
ordnance.
“Allow me to look at it,” said he; “I’ll send a man to your tent for
it;” and with this he despatched a servant to my routee.
The judge clicked my locks, turned the piece about, took a peep
at the muzzles, which were in rather fine order for cutting
wadding, in the absence of the instrument usually employed for
that purpose, shook his head, and returned it to me.
“Come,” said he, “I think we can set you up with a better piece
than that for the day; though,” added he, archly, “it appears to
have seen a little service too;” and so saying, he put together a
splendid Joe Manton, the locks of which spoke eloquently as he
played them off, and he placed it in my hands. “Have you ever shot
off an elephant?”
“Never, sir,” said I, “though I have ridden upon one more than
once.”
“Well, then, you must make your first essay to-day; it is no easy
matter; you must allow for the rise and fall of the animal, and take
care you don’t bag any of the black fellows alongside of you.”
I laughingly assured him I would endeavour to avoid that
mistake.
“Come along, then,” said he; “I think we are now ready.”
The judge had two noble shekarrie, or hunting elephants,
trained to face the tiger, and for sport in general, which stood
ready caparisoned, with their flaming red jhools, or housings, in
front of the tent. In the howdah of one of them I took my seat,
whilst the judge occupied that of the other.
Duly seated, guns secured, brandy and lunch stowed away in the
khowas or dicky, the stately brutes rose at the command of the
drivers from their recumbent postures; the orderly Cossack-
looking horsemen mounted; the troop of beaters shouldered their
long laties or poles, and we were instantly bearing away in full
swing for the sporting-ground. This lay at the distance of three or
four miles from our encampment, and consisted of a long shallow
jheel or lake, skirted by tracks of rank grass, terminating in
cultivation, villages, and groves of trees.
The elephant moves both legs at one side simultaneously,
consequently the body rises and falls, and his motion is that of a
ship at sea, and I felt before I tried it that I should make nothing of
my first attempt to shoot off one.
We now formed line, the judge’s elephant at one extremity, or
pretty nearly so, and mine at the other, and advanced.
“Keep a good look-out, Gernon,” cried my host; “we shall have
something up immediately.”
He had scarcely uttered the words, when up flustered a huge
bird from under the elephants feet, towering perpendicularly
overhead; his burnished throat, golden hues, and long sweeping
tail, proclaimed him at once a wild peacock. I endeavoured to
cover him, but all in vain, my gun’s muzzles, like the poet’s eye,
were alternately directed “from earth to heaven,” through the up-
and-down motion of the elephant. However, I blazed away both
barrels, but without touching a feather. On attaining a certain
elevation, he struck off horizontally, wings expanded, cleaving the
air like a meteor; but, passing to the rear of my companion, he,
with the greatest sang-froid, rose, turned round in his howdah,
and dropped him as dead as a stone, amidst cries of lugga lugga
(“hit”)! mara (“killed”)! and wau, wau (“bravo”)!
It is not considered very sportsmanlike to shoot the full-grown
peacock in India; the chicks are, however, capital eating, and are
often bagged. In this instance, the judge had evidently brought
down the peacock for my gratification; this I inferred from his
immediately sending it to me by one of his horsemen, who hoisted
it up into the howdah at the end of his spear.
As we advanced farther into the long grass, evidences of the
deserved character of the spot began to thicken around us; black
partridges rose every moment, and the judge tumbled them over
right and left, but not a feather could I touch.
Our line now made a sweep, with a view to emerging from the
grass, and immediately a beautiful sight presented itself; it was a
whole herd of antelopes, roused by our beaters from their repose,
and which went off before us, bounding with the grace of Taglioni.
Two sharp cracks, and lugga, lugga! proclaimed that Mr. Sympkin
had laid an embargo on one or more of them. This proved to be
the case, and a fine black buck antelope, with spiral horns and a
white streak down his side, and a fawn about half-grown, were
soon seen dangling from the broad quarters of the elephant.
On approaching the very verge of the long grass, a cry of sewer,
sewer! was followed by a wild hog’s bolting. I fired at him, and put
a few shots in the hindquarters of one of the judge’s horses, who
thereat reared and plunged, jerked off his rider’s cap, and had
nearly dismounted the rider himself, whom I could hear muttering
a few curses at my awkwardness. The judge also discharged a
brace of barrels at him, but he got off, and we saw him for a great
distance scouring across the plain.
Having issued from the grass, the judge drove his elephant
alongside of mine.
“Well, how do you get on? I fear you found what I said correct,
eh? You haven’t hit much?”
“Much! I haven’t hit anything, sir, except one of your sowars’
horses, I am sorry to say: it is most tantalizing! I doubt if ever I
should succeed in striking an object from an elephant.”
 “Oh, yes, you would,” said my host, smiling; “a little practice
makes perfect; but come, we’ll try on foot, on your account, after
we have taken some refreshment; we will confine ourselves to the
skirts of the grass and bajrakates,[55] where we can see about us.”
Having refreshed ourselves with a glass of ale and some cold
ham and fowl, we proceeded to try our luck on foot, and I now had
the satisfaction of killing my fair share of game.
“You have never, I presume, seen the mode in which the hog-
deer is taken in this part of the world?”
I answered in the negative.
“Well, then,” resumed Mr. Sympkin, “if disposed to vary your
sport, we have yet time before dinner. My people have the nets,
and I’ll show you how it is done; this will be something to put in
the next letter you write home to astonish them all.”
Having mounted horses, which were in attendance, we
proceeded at a smart amble to a pretty extensive tract of reeds
lying at the distance of a mile; into this tract, which terminated
rather abruptly at some distance, a line of men was placed, with
here and there a horseman.
At the extremity of the tract of reeds, but in the open plain, two
ranks of men, with intervals of forty or fifty paces between each
man, were placed, in prolongation of the sides of the patch of
reeds. These two lines converged, and were terminated at the apex
of the cone by a row of nets, formed of stout tarred cords, slightly
propped up by stakes.
The first-mentioned line now advanced with cries and shouts,
and as it approached the confines of the bank of reeds, two fine
hog-deer broke cover. The men composing the two lines above
mentioned, whose termini appuyed on the nets, now squatted
down close to the earth, and as the animals approached, they
raised their heads successively; this alarming them, and
preventing every attempt to quit the street in which they were
confined.
In this clever way they forced the deer, edging them on at full
speed into the nets, into which they tumbled headlong, rolling
over and over, completely manacled in the toils. I never saw
anything so cleverly managed; the fellows did everything with
wonderful coolness and tact, and seemed perfectly masters of their
craft.
 Laden with game, after a most interesting day’s sport, we
returned to Mr. Sympkin’s tent, where we found our smiling little
friend, the Padre, with his ever-ready hand extended, and
prepared to receive and to congratulate us.
After passing another day with our princely host, we took our
leave and commenced our journey. Our tents had been sent
overnight, and after an abundant breakfast, Ensign Gernon, the
Griffin, and the Rev. Arratoon Bagram Sarkies, soon found
themselves jogging along, discussing things in general in as cosy
dialogues as those recorded to have taken place between the
renowned knight of La Mancha and his valorous squire. The good
missionary, I was flattered to observe, took a warm and
affectionate interest in me, which he manifested by a strong effort
to impress upon me the deep importance of his religious views.
One afternoon, as the missionary and I were sitting outside our
tents, my attention was attracted towards a group of sepahis
engaged under a banyan-tree playing the game of back-sword. As
the mode in which this exercise is conducted may be new to the
reader, I shall describe it.
The first who entered the lists or circle of spectators were two
handsome and well-formed Rajpoots, who would have served for
models of Apollo, and who in this exercise display uncommon
agility and suppleness of limb; they were naked to the loins, round
which, the hips, and upper part of the thighs, was tightly wound
the dotee, or waistcloth, which sustains and strengthens the back
—the “girding of the loins,” so often mentioned in Scripture, &c.
Each of the men held in his left hand a diminutive leathern shield
or target, less than a foot in diameter, whilst his right grasped a
long wooden sword, covered also with leather, and padded and
guarded about the handle.
Having exchanged salutes, one of them, holding his weapon at
the recover, and planting himself in a firm attitude, bent a stern
gaze on his adversary, which seemed to say, “Now do your worst.”
The other now commenced those ludicrously grotesque antics
which, amongst the Hindoostanee athletæ, are always the prelude
to a set-to. He first, with the air of a maître de ballet, took two or
three sweeping steps to the right, eyed his opponent for an instant,
and then kicking up his foot behind, so as almost to touch the
small of his back, he twirled round on his heel, and with his chest
expanded and thrown proudly out, made another grave and
prancing movement in the other direction; he now approached
nearer, struck the ground with his sword, dared his adversary to
the onset, and again retreated with two or three long back-steps to
the utmost verge of the circle formed by the spectators. Like
cautious enemies, however, neither seemed to like to commit
himself until sure of a palpable hit.
At last, however, he who had been standing on the defensive,
following with his hawk’s eye the other’s strutting gyrations,
perceiving an advantage, levelled a blow at his adversary with the
rapidity of lightning, which was caught on the target and returned
as quick as thought. A rapid and animated exchange of strokes
now took place, accompanied by the most agile bounds and
movements; most of these blows rattled on the targets; head and
shoulders, nevertheless, came in for an ample share of ugly hits.
The fight at length ceased, and the breathless and exhausted
combatants rested from their gladiatorial exhibition, amidst many
“wau, waus” and “shabases” (“bravos”)! resigning their weapons
to two others anxious to display their prowess.
Subsequent experience of them has convinced me that a finer
body of men is hardly to be found than the sepoys of Hindostan,
particularly in their own country; for, taken out of it into a climate
where the food, water, &c., disagree with them, they lose much of
their spirit and stamina.
Our countryman, the British soldier, possesses an unrivalled
energy and bull-dog courage, which certainly, when the tug of war
—the hour of real danger—comes, must, as it ever has done, bear
everything before it; but justice demands the admission that, in
many other respects, the sepoy contrasts most favourably with
him—temperate, respectful, patient, subordinate, and faithful—
one of his highest principles being “fidelity to his salt,” he adds to
no ordinary degree of courage every other requisite of a good
soldier.
A judicious policy towards these men, based on a thorough
knowledge of their peculiar characteristics, may bind them to us
for ages yet to come, by the double link of affection and interest,
and enable us, as an Indian power, to laugh alike at foreign foes
and domestic enemies; whilst a contrary course, and leaving their
feelings and customs to be trifled with by inexperienced
innovators, may, ere long, produce an opposite effect, and cause
them, if once alienated, to shake us off “like dew-drops from the
lion’s mane.”
 Serais, or places of entertainment for wayfarers—well known to
all readers of Eastern tales as caravan-serais—I frequently met
with at towns on my march, and sometimes encamped within or
near the walls. The serais, like the generality of buildings in India,
are almost always in a ruinous state, it being nobody’s business to
keep them in a state of repair.
These structures, some of them the fruits of the piety and
munificence of former times, are a great public benefit; their
construction is generally similar, and consists of four walls of
brick, stone, or mud, sometimes battlemented, forming a
parallelogram, having gateways at two opposite sides, through
which the high road usually passes. Small cells or apartments,
with arched entrances, run round the interior, in any one of which
the weary traveller may spread his mat, smoke his pipe, and enjoy
his repose as long as he pleases.
Each serai has its establishment of attendants, bunyahs
(shopkeepers), bhistees and mehturs (water-carriers and
sweepers), who ply their several occupations, and administer to
the traveller’s wants.
What a motley and picturesque assemblage do these serais
sometimes exhibit! In one part saunters a group of fair and
athletic Afghans from Cabul or Peshawur, proceeding with horses,
greyhounds, dried fruits, and the like, to sell in the south; their
fearless bearing and deep voices proclaim them natives of a more
invigorating climate. In another, a drove of bunjarra bullocks
repose amongst piled sacks of grain, and quietly munch the cud,
whilst their nomade drivers smoke or snore around.
Under the shade of yon drooping tamarind-tree, on a branch of
which his sword and shield are suspended, a Mahomedan traveller
has spread his carpet, and with his face towards Mecca (his kibla),
his head hanging on his breast, and his arms reverentially folded,
he offers up his evening’s devotions; near him, on the little clay
terrace, is to be seen the high-caste bramin, his body marked with
ochres and pigments, and, surrounded by his religious apparatus
of conch, flowers, and little brazen gods, he blows his shell, tinkles
his bell, and goes through all his little mummeries, with the full
conviction that he is fulfilling the high behests of Heaven.
Groups of camels, tatoos, or the gaunt steed of some roaming
cavalier—some Dugald Dalgetty of the East, seeking employment
for his jaws and sword, or rather for his sword and jaws, for such
is the order—serve to fill up the little picture I have been
describing, and which in my griffinish days, and since, I have
contemplated with pleasure.
In a day or two we reached Allyghur, where my good friend the
missionary and I were destined to part, his route lying to the
southward towards Agra, mine in a more northerly direction to
Delhi. Here I received a few lines from Marpeet, saying that he
was looking for my arrival with great pleasure. “You had better
push on as fast as you can, my dear Gernon, for your
commandant, who is a crusty old fellow, and a very tight hand, has
been heard to express his surprise at your not having long since
made your appearance.”
This letter rather damped the buoyancy of my spirits. The
following morning I took leave of my good friend the missionary;
his eyes filled with tears as he clasped my hands in both of his, and
whilst pressing them to his bosom, pronounced a prayer and a
blessing over me.
If it indeed be true, and we have no reason to doubt it, that the
prayer of the righteous man “availeth much,” that prayer was
deeply to be valued. Short as was the time of our acquaintance, I
felt as if I had known him all my life, and was, consequently, much
affected at parting. Half-choking as he rode off, I waved him a
sorrowful, and what has proved a last, adieu.
 CHAPTER XXV.

A few days more brought me to my last day’s march on the

banks of the Jumna, and the mosques and minarets of the ancient
capital of India broke on my delighted view.
I had scarcely dismounted from my pony at my tent door, which
commanded a distant glimpse of the blue and “soft stealing”
Jumna, when I perceived three Europeans on horseback
approaching at a hard gallop. As they drew near, I recognized in
one of the three my friend and Mentor, Captain Marpeet. He was
soon up, and warm and cordial was our greeting.
“Well, my boy, long looked-for comes at last; glad to have you
amongst us, Gernon,” said he, presenting me to his companions,
two laughing, beardless ensigns; “let me introduce you to my two
boys, Wildfire and Skylark; two intractable dogs,” added he,
laughing; “have given me twice the trouble to break in that you
did.”
Wildfire and Skylark shook hands with me, and in ten minutes
we were as intimate as if we had known each other for six months.
“Come, mount again, Gernon,” said Marpeet; “you are but a few
miles from Delhi, and it is useless for you to remain here all day.
Come along; I have breakfast all ready for you at my shop; your
things, you know, can follow to-morrow; you don’t, though,
appear to be overburthened with baggage, Frank, eh? Dogs, too—
hah—regular terrier bunnow.[56] Great a griff as ever, I see—hah!
hah!”
We pursued our course towards cantonments, Marpeet riding in
the midst of his protégés as proudly as an old gander on a green at
the head of three orphan goslings.
We crossed the river Jumna in a broad, square, flat-bottomed
ferry-boat; and after riding through some rich cultivation on its
banks, joined a road skirting part of the ruins of ancient Delhi,
which from that point exhibited a confused assemblage of ruins—
fort, mosque, tomb, and palace—stretching far away behind us in
the distance, towards what I afterwards learned was the
mausoleum of Humaioon.
I was particularly struck, as I rode on, by one large desolate
building, which Captain Marpeet informed me was the ancient
palace of Firoze Shah. A lofty pillar of stone, something like one of
the round towers of Ireland, rose out of the centre of it, whilst the
whole mass of building exhibited a touching picture of loneliness
and desolation; long grass and the silvery roots of the peepul grew
around the battered arches and casements, out of one of which a
couple of fat and saucy jackals were peeping, to reconnoitre us as
we rode beneath.
We entered the modern city near the mansion of the Nawaub
Ahmed Buksh Khan,[57] through an embattled gateway occupied by
a guard of Nujjeebs, a sort of highly picturesque militia, attired in
the Hindoostanee garb, and armed and equipped with crooked-
stocked matchlocks, mull-shaped powder-horns, and other
paraphernalia of a very primitive and extraordinary description.
These men, who were upon guard, were smoking, sleeping, and
doing their best to kill old Time, that enemy who, in the long run,
is pretty sure to kill us.
We were soon in that part of the town called Derriow Gunge,
where a portion of the troops were cantoned,[58] and drawing up
before an odd sort of building, of a very mixed style of
architecture, my friend dismounted, and announced my arrival at
Marpeet Hall, “to which, my boy,” said he, with a squeeze, “you are
heartily welcome, and where you may stick up your spoon, with
my two babes in the wood there, as long as you please; don’t blow
me up, that’s all, or set the house on fire, and you may do what
else you like. So now for breakfast,” said the captain, cracking his
half-hunter (whip), as a hint, I presumed, to the bawurchee (cook)
to be expeditious, and shouting “hazree looe juldee” (“breakfast
quickly”), he motioned us to enter, and followed.
The captain’s residence had been in the olden time a mosque or
tomb, I cannot exactly say which; but with the addition of a terrace
and verandah, and a few extra doors punched through walls six
feet thick, it made a capital abode, combining the coolness in
summer and the warmth in winter, which result from this solid
mode of construction, with the superadded European
conveniences.